


O Christmas Tree

by EAU1636



Category: Boyfriend Material - Alexis Hall
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, soft and sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAU1636/pseuds/EAU1636
Summary: “Like it? What even is this, Oliver? It looks like something you’d see in the window at Harrods or fucking Fortnum & Mason. This is the kind of tree people pay money to see. This tree should be surrounded by a starry eyed family in matching Christmas jumpers holding hands while singing carols in some John Lewis advert. I don’t even feel worthy of standing near it. I feel like I should bow down before it.”“If you insist on getting down on your knees, Lucien, I certainly won’t object, but it’s just a tree.”
Relationships: Oliver Blackwood/Luc O'Donnell
Comments: 21
Kudos: 77





	O Christmas Tree

I stared at the towering tree circled in ethereal white lights and adorned with exquisite ornaments that were so flawlessly placed they looked as if they’d miraculously sprouted from its branches.

“Oliver,” I called, unable to take my eyes from the eerie perfection in front of me.

Oliver came into his living room and stood beside me, his shoulder just brushing against mine. The warm, clean smell of him mingled with the scent of fresh spruce.

“I put it up yesterday,” he said placidly. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? What even is this, Oliver? It looks like something you’d see in the window at Harrods or fucking Fortnum & Mason. This is the kind of tree people pay money to see. This tree should be surrounded by a starry eyed family in matching Christmas jumpers holding hands while singing carols in some John Lewis advert. I don’t even feel worthy of standing near it. I feel like I should bow down before it.”

“If you insist on getting down on your knees, Lucien, I certainly won’t object, but it’s just a tree.”

“Oliver, that is not just a tree. The ornaments are colour coordinated. They are spaced to minute exactitude.” I tore my gaze from the tree and turned to face him, scrutinizing his innocent expression. The cosy, cream cashmere jumper he wore made him look even more wholesome than usual. “Did you measure when you were putting them up?”

“Of course not.”

He sounded affronted. Oliver affronted was one of my favourite things, so I pushed on, trying to hide my grin. “How long did it take you to decorate this?”

“I can’t claim to know precisely how long it took. I wasn’t timing myself.”

“It took hours didn’t it?”

Oliver’s only reply was a cool stare. Which, perversely, made him that much hotter.

“Next year I’m going to be here when you put your tree up. I’m going to need to see this magic happen. And I’m absolutely going to time you.”

Oliver gave me a patronizing look. “You’re more than welcome to help me decorate our tree next year.” 

I watched the realization of his words dawn over his features, blushing his cheeks. He turned his eyes down to the floor. I felt something fizz up in my stomach, bright and sweet as champagne.

“Don’t you have a tree?” He grasped at the question like a lifeline.

“You’ve seen my flat, right? You’ve met me? Do I seem like I exude Christmas cheer to you? Do I seem like the kind of responsible adult who owns festive, seasonal decor?”

Oliver quirked a reluctant grin. “Perhaps not.”

“Perhaps fucking never. I don’t have a tree. I’ve never had a tree. The only Christmas decoration I own is a demonic stuffed animatronic singing tree that Bridge gave me a few years back as part of some book promotion, and that’s crammed into the bottom of a box where it can’t haunt my nightmares.”

“Percy the Christmas Pine?”

“Oh God, did she give you one too? Is he here right now? Is he watching us?” I glanced around covertly and then lowered my voice. “Can he hear me?”

Oliver motioned to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, where Percy sat with his mocking button eyed stare, his malevolent piney mouth turned up in a knowing smile.

I shuddered.

Oliver shook his head and smiled. “You really don’t put up a tree? How can you have Christmas without decorating a tree?”

“When I go to mum’s on Christmas Eve, she and Judy and I decorate hers. Since you’re coming with me this year, you’ll get to see the spectacle for yourself and I’m sure they’ll rope you into helping. But I guarantee it’s not going to look anything like yours. Mum has this retro tree from the 70’s. It’s silver and probably made from asbestos or something. Speaking of which, I’m surprised you aren’t ecologically opposed to a tree being cut down and displayed in your living room.”

“It wasn’t cut down.” Oliver was clearly attempting not to look smug, and very much failing. “There’s a local business that rents live trees. They deliver it and I care for it while I have it and then after Christmas, they come and pick it up and take it back to the farm and replant it.”

“Of course they do.” I tried to sound exasperated, but actually it was so adorably Oliver-ish that I only sounded humiliatingly in love, even to my own jaded ears. I quickly changed the subject, before I fucking teared up thinking about the Christmas tree farm. “Well, mum’s ornaments are nothing like yours. All of them are either globby glued monstrosities I made in school or lewd ones she’s gotten from Judy.”

“Why am I not at all surprised that Judy gets your mother lewd Christmas ornaments?”

“It’s a tradition. Every year Judy gets mum an ornament that brings to mind a certain part of the human anatomy. And somehow they look even more obscene next to the handprint Santas and reindeer I made when I was five.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” Oliver’s eyes held a softness that showed just how much he meant it.

“Have I mentioned that I’m glad you’re coming with me?” I definitely did not feel a gush of sappy feelings stirring inside me. Absolutely not. I nuzzled my face against his shoulder, but only because the cashmere was so soft.

The terrifying truth was, I might as well have hung my heart on his tree. It was irretrievably his, aching in my chest for him, even when he was right beside me.

“Have I mentioned there’s nothing I’d rather do than spend Christmas with you and your family?” He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, and gently tilted my face up into a kiss.

I met it eagerly, the lush warmth of his lips and slight roughness of stubble on his skin. I reached my hands up to slide through his hair, and arched into the comfort and thrill of him.

He guided me backwards, slow and sure, one hand at the side of my neck and the other pressing against my back, pushing me down onto the sofa with just the slightest hint of force and straddling his legs around mine, his mouth and hands moving over me with that precise, dedicated attention, lighting up every millimeter of my skin, until I was pinned and primed and pulsing.

Then I glanced up, and froze.

Oliver noticed and immediately stopped, easing himself off of me slightly, his brow creasing with concern.

“Lucien? What is it?”

“That _thing_.” I whispered. “Percy. He’s watching us.”

Oliver looked up at the beady eyed holiday horror on the shelf above us and let out a relieved, ragged laugh, his voice still rough with desire.

“Can we do this in the bedroom?” I pleaded. “Or in the kitchen? Or out in the garden, or anywhere not within view of that evil little tree?”

“I rather appreciate an audience,” Oliver said, his eyes a dark challenge.

“I knew underneath that upright exterior there were hidden depravities.”

“Oh Lucien, just you wait. You’re never going to be able to look Percy in the eye again.”

And, as always, he was as good as his word.

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't resist some Oliver and Luc Christmas fluff :)


End file.
